Arthur straightened slowly, pushing himself up from the garden's damp, grass-covered ground with a pained grimace. His pride stung more sharply than the lingering ache between his legs. He scowled toward the spot where the wild, impossible girl had disappeared, the soft breeze whispering mockingly through the overgrown strawberry bushes and tangled mint.
He could scarcely believe it. Him—Prince Arthur Pendragon—best swordsman in Camelot, famed slayer of beasts and monsters, humiliated by a tiny blonde girl barely tall enough to reach his shoulder. A kick to the groin—was there no honor left in this wretched world?
"Unbelievable," he growled under his breath, brushing off clumps of dirt and grass from his black leather armor. Each movement made him wince, a reminder of just how skillfully she'd managed to land her blow. He glared toward the open garden gate, fists tightening at his sides. "If Reinheart ever finds out about this, I'll never hear the end of it."
Arthur's face flushed hotly, an uncharacteristic embarrassment creeping beneath his arrogant composure. He was a warrior—no, more than that, a man who had died once and been reborn. He'd defeated werewolves, fought giants, bested knights twice his age. Yet somehow, here in this strange, enchanted little garden, he'd been bested by an undersized girl wielding nothing more than sheer audacity and a complete lack of manners.
He reached down and firmly gripped the hilt of Dragon Slayer, its massive blade embedded in the soil like a monument to his humiliation. With a deep breath, he yanked the sword upward in one swift, furious motion. The heavy steel emerged smoothly, soil scattering as the sunlight gleamed across the sword's dark surface.
Arthur stared at the blade for a long moment, taking comfort from its weight and balance, from its simple yet profound power. The sword had always steadied him, always given him clarity—its forged metal reminding him of who he was, of the battles he'd won, the foes he'd conquered. But now, it felt strangely heavy. Not physically—he wielded it with effortless ease—but heavy in a way he could not immediately understand.
Shaking his head to clear these strange thoughts, Arthur squared his broad shoulders, letting the familiar arrogance settle back into place. He was the prince here, the heir to the Pendragon throne. He would not—could not—allow such an insult to go unanswered.
"Right, then," Arthur muttered with newfound determination, swinging the massive sword effortlessly onto his shoulder. His gaze hardened, focused entirely on the garden gate leading down toward the lakeside. "Time to teach this little savage some manners."
He strode forward purposefully, boots crunching against gravel and roots, his black cloak billowing behind him like storm clouds on the horizon. Dragon Slayer rested menacingly across his shoulder, its weight comforting against his skin. He would never harm a child, of course—but he intended to give her a fright, at least enough to teach her respect. And perhaps, just perhaps, persuade her to apologize.
His pace quickened as he approached the gate, passing beneath the sprawling vines and stepping into the clear sunlight beyond. Ahead, he spotted her immediately—standing at the lake's edge, gripping her makeshift spear like a soldier making a last stand.
Even from here, he could see the trembling in her small frame, the slight wobble in her stubborn stance. Yet she held firm, glaring fiercely, her eyes blazing with that same absurd defiance. Arthur felt something soften deep within him at the sight—admiration, perhaps, mixed with a strange sense of nostalgia. For a fleeting instant, he thought of Bruce—the real Bruce, his old friend who never gave up, never admitted defeat, no matter how hopeless the odds.
Arthur hesitated slightly, his grip relaxing involuntarily around the sword's hilt. She reminded him of Bruce, in her own peculiar, stubborn way.
He shook himself abruptly, dismissing the thought. No—Bruce was gone. Dead, lost in another life. And this girl was nothing but a rude, spoiled brat who'd gotten lucky with a cheap shot. She needed to learn respect, plain and simple.
Closing the remaining distance between them, Arthur planted himself firmly a few feet in front of her. He loomed tall and imposing, casting a long shadow over the muddy lakeside. For a long moment, he stared silently down into her defiant face, allowing the heavy silence to press upon her.
He took a slow, measured breath. When he spoke, his voice was calm yet firm, dripping with quiet authority.
"Put down your weapon," he said quietly, but clearly. "You've had your fun. It's time we had a civilized conversation."
Lili held her ground, stubbornly clutching her spear, her blue eyes blazing. Yet beneath that defiant glare, Arthur caught a flicker of genuine fear—fear not of him personally, but of his massive sword and the sheer physical power he possessed.
He sighed quietly, reluctantly understanding her reaction. Of course, the sword would frighten her. She probably believed he intended genuine harm. He glanced down at Dragon Slayer, heavy and deadly in his grasp, and realized how foolish he must look—a fully grown warrior brandishing a weapon big enough to cleave horses, confronting a small, frightened child.
With another sigh, Arthur slowly lowered the blade, carefully placing it flat upon the soft grass by his feet.
"There," he said quietly, raising his empty palms toward her in a gesture of peace. "No more sword. Now, can we talk?"
Lili's gaze flickered from the sword lying harmlessly on the ground back up to his face. Her grip loosened slightly, but suspicion and stubbornness still burned fiercely in her narrowed eyes.
"Apologize first," she demanded, her voice trembling but sharp with stubborn pride. "Apologize for invading my kingdom, stealing my berries, and—and poisoning me!"
Arthur barely contained an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes skyward. "Apologize? Absolutely not. I've done nothing wrong—least of all to a girl who clearly needs a lesson in humility."
Her small chin lifted defiantly. "Then we have nothing to discuss, rogue."
Arthur's jaw tightened at her insolence, and his irritation flared again. He took one measured step closer, his voice lowering dangerously.
"You listen to me, girl. Even if you were Lord Foster's daughter—which now I sincerely doubt—you have no right to command me or accuse me of anything. For you're no lord, no landowner, certainly not the law, and besides you are a girl and men like me dont apologise to girls. You're just a spoiled, disobedient child who ought to know her place."
Lili's face reddened deeply at his words, anger flaring in her eyes. She raised her spear higher, her knuckles whitening with her grip.
"You're a—a sexist jerk!" she sputtered angrily. "And you're going to apologise to me right now, or—or I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget!"
Arthur regarded her silently for a moment, astonished by her utter lack of understanding. She really meant to fight him—again—after all this?
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled—a brief, reluctant smirk that broke through his irritation.
"Very well," he sighed dramatically, spreading his arms in a mocking gesture of invitation. "If that's truly what you want, little girl, then come and 'teach' me."
He shook his head, amused disbelief clear on his handsome face.
"But just so you know," he added, eyes twinkling with quiet arrogance, "I don't apologize. Not to Emperors, not to Kings, not to nobility, not to anyone, especially not to little girls, because I am Art, and I am a man."
As he stood there, utterly confident and maddeningly calm, Lili's expression hardened further, and she steadied her stance. Her stubborn determination radiated powerfully from her small frame, and Arthur found himself oddly curious, intrigued by what she might dare to do next.
He stood at ease, watching carefully as Lili steadied her breathing and adjusted her grip on her makeshift spear. His posture appeared relaxed, yet every muscle in his toned body was poised to respond to her next impulsive move. He found himself strangely amused by her intensity, yet still perplexed by the absurdity of this encounter.
Lili, sensing this, straightened her small frame proudly, lifted her chin, and met his gaze with an unwavering glare. She twirled her spear above her head with exaggerated bravado before dramatically striking it into the soft earth at her feet.
"Now, rogue," she declared with fierce conviction, "you face the legendary Spear of Sparta, forged from the divine Oak of Olympus, carved by the mighty teeth of the great beast Scar, Guardian Fox of the Lake Realm!"
Arthur arched an eyebrow, his expression a delicate mix of skepticism and amusement. "Guardian... fox?"
Ignoring him, Lili continued fervently. "This spear has tasted victory in countless battles against formidable foes—such as the infamous Chicken Horde of Big Mama, the Ferocious Squirrels of Tree-Topia, and even the ruthless Swamp Frog Syndicate led by the nefarious Mister Frog himself!"
Arthur nearly laughed out loud at her theatrical proclamations, though he managed to restrain himself to a mild smirk. "Quite a fearsome resume indeed," he conceded sarcastically, folding his arms patiently. "I suppose I should be honored to face such a legendary weapon."
Lili narrowed her eyes, gripping the spear tightly. "Mock me at your peril, rogue! For now you shall witness my mastery of the most ancient and sacred fighting arts, taught exclusively to me by my animal council!"
Without further hesitation, she leaped forward, her spear a blur of frantic motion as she shouted with exuberant defiance, "First Form: Scar's Furious Fox Flurry!"
The spear whipped rapidly back and forth, thrusting and slicing erratically toward Arthur. He easily dodged each jab, sidestepping with a dancer's graceful ease. Yet, despite himself, he noticed her footwork was quicker than he expected, and a few thrusts came surprisingly close to nicking his sleeves.
She spun again, yelling fiercely, "Second Form: Terminator's Feathered Fury!" She launched a series of rapid, unpredictable jabs, mimicking the aggressive pecks and wing-flaps of her prized rooster. Arthur instinctively stepped back, narrowly avoiding a strike that grazed harmlessly across his leather armor.
"Careful now," Arthur teased gently, though a note of genuine surprise crept into his voice. "You might actually scratch my armor at this rate."
"Behold!" she cried loudly, building momentum and confidence, twirling and dancing with exaggerated moves. "Third Form: Bunny Blitz Barrage!" She hopped and darted forward unpredictably, her thrusts so quick and random that Arthur found himself momentarily off-balance. He stumbled lightly, feeling the blunt tip of the spear tap harmlessly against his chest plate with a soft thunk.
Arthur blinked, startled, a faint smile tugging the corner of his lips. "Not bad," he murmured quietly, genuinely intrigued now. "You almost tickled me there."
Lili's eyes flashed triumphantly. Emboldened, she leaped higher into the air, spinning dramatically before descending upon him in an acrobatic flourish, shouting passionately, "Fourth Form: Squirrel Tornado Twist!"
She spun wildly in midair, landing just behind Arthur, thrusting her spear with surprising accuracy at his lower back. Arthur swiftly turned, catching the spear's shaft in his powerful hand just inches from his belt. His amused gaze met her shocked eyes.
"That one almost hurt," he admitted lightly, smiling warmly down at her astonished expression.
But she wasn't finished yet. Lili's face hardened once more, and with a burst of stubborn strength, she wrenched her spear free from his grip, stumbling back slightly but quickly regaining her footing.
"Final Form!" she cried defiantly, her breathing ragged, eyes blazing fiercely. "The Sacred Technique—Big Mama's Ultimate Chicken Charge!"
Without another thought, she lowered her spear dramatically and charged straight at Arthur, head down, barreling forward with reckless abandon, shrieking wildly at the top of her lungs.
Arthur sighed in amused resignation, sidestepping calmly at the last moment, expecting her to rush harmlessly past. To his astonishment, she pivoted sharply, sweeping the spear in a wide arc, catching him off-guard and tapping harmlessly against his thigh.
Arthur raised both eyebrows, genuinely surprised. "Impressive improvisation," he murmured appreciatively. "But that's enough for now."
Before she could react again, Arthur swiftly closed the gap between them, his hands effortlessly capturing the spear firmly near the middle of its shaft. Lili tugged fiercely, refusing to surrender, her small face red with exertion as she struggled valiantly.
"Yield now," Arthur suggested gently, his voice calm but firm.
"N-never!" she panted defiantly, pulling harder. "This is my kingdom!"
Arthur's grip tightened slightly, yet he was careful not to hurt her. He tugged gently but insistently, feeling her stubborn resistance slowly weaken.
"You've fought bravely," Arthur admitted, voice gentle now. "But it's over. Let go."
Lili gritted her teeth, giving one final desperate yank. But Arthur held firm, and her grip finally slipped. The spear came free into Arthur's hands, leaving Lili staggering backward, empty-handed and breathing heavily.
Arthur stood quietly for a moment, holding the spear, examining it with amused curiosity. He glanced down at her, a faint, warm smile on his lips.
"You're certainly full of surprises," he said softly, admiration and humor clear in his voice.
Lili stood defiantly, fists clenched at her sides, breathing heavily, still glaring up at him fiercely.
"You haven't seen anything yet, rogue," she promised breathlessly.
Arthur smiled, genuinely intrigued and charmed by this spirited, impossible girl. He calmly tossed the spear aside into the grass, meeting her stubborn gaze directly.
"Oh, I have no doubt," he said warmly, stepping back slightly and offering her a respectful nod. "I look forward to whatever you plan next."
For a long moment, they stood staring at each other—the tall, powerful prince and the small, determined girl, both aware something had shifted between them. An odd respect formed quietly beneath their playful, absurd conflict.
But Lili wasn't ready to surrender yet. She balled her fists tightly, taking a fighting stance once again.
"You leave me no choice!" she declared, glaring fiercely. "Prepare yourself for my next technique!"
Arthur sighed in mock-exasperation, though the corner of his mouth curled upward in anticipation.
"Very well," he said softly, amused. "Let's see what you have left."
Arthur watched the wild-eyed girl carefully, muscles taut and ready, expecting at any moment another reckless charge. The lakeside grew silent, punctuated only by the gentle lapping of the water and Lili's heavy, rapid breathing.
The girl raised her spear dramatically, twirling it over her head in a series of elaborate, unnecessary spins, as though trying to channel strength from the heavens themselves. Her voice rang out fiercely across the lake, startling a nearby frog into frantic leaps toward safer reeds.
"Hear me now, arrogant rogue!" she proclaimed, her voice steadying despite her visible trembling. "For you now face the legendary Spear of Sparta, forged in the sacred fires of Olympus itself! Its shaft carved from the sacred Oak of Zeus, its blade fashioned from a razor-sharp fang torn from the fearsome Cerberus!"
Arthur blinked, eyebrows lifting in bewilderment. "Cerberus...? Fang...? What in the name of—"
But Lili continued, undeterred by his confusion. "With this spear, I shall now unleash upon you techniques passed down from the greatest warriors in history—the fearsome Sith Lord Darth Maul and the legendary Jedi masters themselves!"
She lunged forward, yelling proudly, "Sith Shadow Slash!" Her spear swung in a wide, rapid arc. Arthur easily sidestepped, feeling only the faintest breeze of the spear's wooden tip brush past his cheek.
He raised an eyebrow appreciatively. "Not bad."
Her eyes flashed. "I've only begun! Prepare yourself for Kenobi's Whirling Jedi Strike!" With a shout, she spun in an energetic blur, her spear slicing wildly through the air. Though her movements were flashy and overly theatrical, Arthur found himself mildly impressed by her surprising speed and agility.
He dodged neatly again, but this time Lili smoothly transitioned her move into a diving roll, sliding swiftly beneath his reach to rise behind him. She sprang back upright, spear spinning again, eyes blazing with fierce determination.
Arthur turned slowly, amusement growing, now genuinely intrigued. "That was… unexpected."
She lunged forward once more, spear thrusting high, low, and then quickly sideways in unpredictable jabs. Arthur parried and deflected each thrust easily, but her persistence and unpredictable rhythm began to impress him.
Suddenly, she twirled her spear again theatrically, yelling fiercely, "Anakin's Angst Assault!" Her spear jabbed furiously, driven by rapid, exaggerated thrusts that came so quickly Arthur found himself stepping back defensively for a moment.
"Careful," he teased, deflecting her strikes gently, "you might actually hit something—"
Before he could finish, the spear clipped his shoulder lightly—barely enough to register, but still more than he'd expected. Arthur paused, briefly stunned, as Lili leapt back triumphantly, spinning the spear once more, clearly astonished at her own success.
"I—I hit you!" she cried, thrilled yet uncertain. "Admit defeat, villain!"
Arthur chuckled despite himself, rubbing his shoulder with exaggerated dismay. "Indeed, a devastating blow. You've definitely left a bruise on my pride."
Flushed with confidence, Lili pressed forward again. Her footwork became even more erratic, a blend of spontaneous rolls, quick sidesteps, and rapid spins clearly inspired by frantic battles she remembered from long-forgotten Dark Souls boss fights. She dove into a forward roll, springing back to her feet dramatically, spinning her spear above her head with feverish intensity.
Arthur watched carefully, timing his moment. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and he found himself surprisingly entertained—but he also knew she was tiring herself out rapidly with these elaborate displays.
She struck once more, aiming her spear at his midsection. He smoothly sidestepped again, reached out calmly, and grabbed the spear's shaft just below the tip, expecting to wrench it easily from her grasp.
But Lili, with surprising quickness, responded instantly by spinning with the momentum, using Arthur's own grip against him. Arthur felt himself momentarily dragged forward, stumbling slightly as she twisted, shouting, "Form Four: Maul's Counterspin of Doom!"
Arthur grinned despite himself. She was cleverer than he'd imagined. Still, he was stronger by far, and he tightened his grip, finally pulling the spear firmly from her small hands.
Lili staggered back but smoothly transformed the movement into an acrobatic backflip, landing lightly on the balls of her feet, hands planted firmly on the ground in a low, aggressive stance—exactly like a feral cat ready to pounce again. Her eyes flashed with fury and stubborn defiance as she glared up at Arthur, chest heaving with exertion and indignation.
Arthur stood quietly, gripping her spear gently in his hand, observing the fierce determination burning in her bright blue eyes. He shook his head slightly, smiling with genuine admiration.
"You really don't know when to quit, do you?" he asked softly, spinning the spear lightly in his hand. "You've surprised me, I'll give you that."
She remained crouched, breathing hard, eyes narrowed fiercely. "G-give back my spear, rogue!"
Arthur chuckled lightly, genuinely amused, and shook his head again. "Not a chance, little warrior. You've had enough fun for today."
For a brief, tense moment they stared each other down, the silence punctuated only by the gentle rustling of leaves and distant buzzing of insects.
Then, before Arthur could react further, Lili leaped up into another dramatic fighting pose, fists raised defensively in front of her, fierce determination radiating from her small, exhausted form.
"T-then p-prepare yourself," she declared stubbornly, "f-for m-my ultimate hand-to-hand t-technique—the legendary fighting style of MMA champion Conor McGregor, c-combined with the unstoppable f-fury o-of Hokuto Shinken and the terrifying power of Yamcha's Wolf Fang F-fist!"
Arthur tilted his head, utterly baffled. "Yam—who?"
But before Arthur could fully grasp her meaning, Lili launched herself forward with all the ferocity of a pint-sized tornado.
"Conor's Furious Celtic Cross!" she shouted, hurling a wild, sweeping punch toward Arthur's jaw.
Arthur casually leaned back, the punch sailing harmlessly past his nose. He felt the faint rush of air across his face, the scent of lavender and mint strangely soothing amidst the chaos.
Lili's small face hardened with determination. "N-no matter! I-I'll finish you with Hokuto's Hundred Crack Fist!" Her fists became a blur as she unleashed a barrage of rapid, chaotic punches, shouting with intense passion, "Atatatatata!"
Arthur easily stepped back, raising an eyebrow as the tiny fists barely grazed his chest armor, tapping ineffectively against him like gentle raindrops on stone.
"Impressive speed," he commented mildly, "but you seem to lack a bit in power."
Lili's eyes widened momentarily in frustration, but her defiance only surged stronger. She twisted sideways suddenly, imitating an agile boxer's footwork before lunging forward again, shouting dramatically, "Now witness—Wolf Fang Fist! Wolf Fang Strike! Wolf Fang Kick!"
Arthur smiled patiently, smoothly parrying each exaggerated strike. She jumped, punched, spun, and kicked frantically—her small body putting on a show of flamboyant and utterly unnecessary acrobatics.
After several seconds, she staggered back, breathing hard, her face flushed, confidence now visibly shaken.
"I-I... um," she stammered, her lisp emerging more pronounced as uncertainty crept in. "I-It seems you're m-more resilient than I—I anticipated."
Arthur crossed his arms, watching her carefully, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. "Clearly. Perhaps you're finally realizing you're a bit outmatched?"
She shook her head stubbornly, blinking rapidly to hide the panic beginning to surface. "N-never! I'll use my—m-my ultimate final technique!"
"Oh?" Arthur raised an amused eyebrow. "Do tell."
Lili dropped into a low crouch, scooping a handful of mud and grass from the lakeside, her small fingers trembling slightly with urgency. "Special move: Surprise Soil Attack! T-two-second Blind Debuff!"
She flung the dirt clumsily toward his face, shouting dramatically. The clump of grass and mud landed squarely on Arthur's forehead, sticking absurdly between his eyebrows and partially covering one eye. He blinked rapidly in surprise.
For a precious, priceless moment, Arthur genuinely appeared stunned.
Lili gasped softly, heart leaping with hope. "I—I did it!"
Then, to her astonishment, Arthur began to laugh—a rich, deep, genuinely delighted laugh that echoed across the lakeside. He brushed the dirt from his face casually, his bright eyes gleaming with unhidden amusement.
"Did you just throw dirt at me?"
Lili's face burned brightly, her confidence slipping further. "Y-yes! And now—y-you're blinded!"
Arthur chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Not quite blinded, I'm afraid. Although you do win points for creativity."
Desperation surged within her. She lunged once more, her fists and kicks growing increasingly wild, her voice cracking slightly as her exhaustion became clear.
"F-fear my—Conor's Celtic Kick!" she cried weakly, a sloppy kick sweeping clumsily toward him.
Arthur effortlessly sidestepped, reaching out to gently push her off-balance. "Your enthusiasm is commendable, truly, but perhaps we should end this?"
But Lili refused to stop. She spun around once more, fists raised shakily, eyes blazing despite her obvious fatigue. Her stutter became more pronounced as her confidence waned. "T-then, h-how about—Yamcha's S-Super Wolf Fang Fury?"
Arthur sighed dramatically, stepping forward calmly as her exhausted punches struck harmlessly against his chest, barely more than gentle taps. With one swift, smooth motion, he wrapped an arm securely around her small waist and lifted her effortlessly from the ground.
She squeaked in surprise, her fists still flailing weakly. "L-let go, you r-r-rogue! This isn't fair!"
Arthur spun once in place, gathering momentum, then launched her lightly toward the water. "Time to cool off, little warrior!"
Lili's shrill scream filled the lakeside as she sailed through the air, limbs flailing in comedic desperation. She crashed spectacularly into the lake, disappearing beneath an explosion of water and startled bubbles.